The Man with the Axe
He made his way through the forest, much like the day before, and the day before that, with nothing but an axe strapped on his back. The dead leaves beneath his feet crunched under his boots with each step. The sunlight streaming through the tree line above was shattered into millions of pieces across the forest floor, illuminating the once darkened moss and mushrooms. The brisk, fall, mountain breeze nipped at his face and made his cheeks flush and red. The orange and brown leaves fell from the giant trees. They fell with such grace and such beauty, dancing in the random winds and gently resting on the man’s red plaid flannel. The man did not take notice to the dancing leaves nor did he alter his path to avoid them; he simply continued on his way through the forest, like he did the day before, and the day before that.
As he ventured further into the forest, the trees around him became taller and thicker, and the path beneath his feet widened. Leaves continued to both fall from the sky above and rise from the ground below, whirling around together as if all leaves were suspended in the air permanently. Off to his side he noticed four deer, dashing through the leaves and making their way in between the cedars and the dogwoods. One deer stopped up ahead, in front of the man, and stood dead still. The leaves around the deer continued to dance and swirl and the shattered sunlight covered its fur. The man stopped walking and stood as still as the deer, looking straight into its eyes. The deer did not blink, as if it was frozen in time. But just as soon as the deer had appeared, it dashed off into the thick of the wood. And with his path clear once again, the man continued on his way through the forest, like he did the day before, and the day before that.
After continuous walking through the fathomless forest, the man soon approached his destination. Ahead of him, just beyond the towering maples, lay a clearing. The grass in the clearing grew as high as the man’s shins as he finally escaped the endless dark and thickened wood. The sun shined directly down onto the clearing, illuminating the small daisies and green grass. The clearing was completely barren except for the small vegetation and flowers, and a giant, thick tree that stood magnificently in the middle of the field. The tree had been standing there before the age of man, and now, it was only this tree and the man that stood tall in the field. The man continued to walk through the grass, parting his way through a small ocean of green. He closed in on the towering giant, until at last, finally, he was standing in front of it.
He looked up at the tree, marveling at its pure beauty, a natural marvel that has stood the test of time year after year, decade after decade, century after century. He stared up at the tall, unreachable branches and sturdy limbs, and he gazed at the canopy of brilliant orange and yellow. And with that the man reached for his trusty axe. In the trunk of the tree, directly across from the man, was a mark left from the axe. The mark stretched around the trunk of the tree, as wide as the tree stood. The man backed up a step, lined his axe up with the same mark, and took a strong swing; as if it were his last swing he’d ever take. The man struck the tree with such force, yet the tree remained completely unfazed. There was only a small, minute, engraved mark, just like there was the day before, and the day before that.
The man’s face looked determined yet sorrowful, sad not for what he was doing, but for what it represented. The man once again lined up the axe to the mark, just a little bit to the side this time, and took another strong swing. The dead leaves continued to fall slowly all around him. The axe did not move the tree, it did not shake the tree, and it did not tilt the tree. When the man removed the axe, there was a mark, just as there was after the first swing. His eyes began to water, only a little, enough for the sunlight to sparkle. He breathed heavily, then wiped off his mouth and picked up the axe. The man held the axe high in the air, as if he were holding it for all the world to see, then took a hard, heroic swing, just as he had done the two times before.
After the fourth and final swing, the man dropped the axe down by his feet and bent over with his hands on his knees. He was breathing heavily and his eyes continued to water. The man stared at the tree for quite some time, then looked up at the sky with the faraway clouds passing by overhead. After about an hour or so, the man picked up his axe and strapped it to his back, and made his way back through the thick wood.
“Daddy! Daddy! Mommy! Wake up! Wake up! your’re going to get married tonight!” It was a cold but beautiful Sunday morning and the sunlight was shining through the windows of the bedroom, peaking through the curtains, as the rays staggered along the bed. The sunlight peering into the room was usually the first step in waking up for Jack and Ivy, but on this particular morning, it was their youngest daughter Katie who barged through their door with a smile full of glee that interrupted their peaceful sleep.
“Honey, it’s our anniversary! Not our wedding, we’re celebrating our marriage,” Ivy spoke with a sweet motherly tone.
“Mommy! Mommy! You’re getting married!” In the midst of her excitement, Katie accidentally smacked Jack’s face with her fist while he was attempting to sneak in a couple extra minutes of rest.
“Ok, ok, I’m up. Come her you little goof!” Jack grabbed Katie as she giggled and screamed with joy. He held her up above his head, holding her like an airplane, then tossed her onto the bed next to him and began to blow on her stomach, making funny noises. Katie laughed and screamed at the same time as Ivy lay next to them, smiling and staring with admiring eyes
“You two are too much,” Ivy climbed out of bed and put on her Sunday morning bathrobe that was light pink and worn out from years of wear. Jack stopped blowing on Katie’s stomach and tried to shove her out of the bed.
“All right, I’ll go make some breakfast. What do you want Beaker?”
Katie began to jump up and down as she screamed, “Banana pancakes, banana pancakes!”
“You want banana pancakes? Well guess what kid, you’re getting eggs. Life’s full of disappointment, it’s time you learned.”
“I want banana pancakes!”
“Too bad.”
“When are we going to pick out mommy’s present?” Katie continued to bounce up and down, ready to burst with excitement.
“Ssshh. Not so loud mommy will hear you! We’ll go when she leaves for her class. Now go wake up your sisters, put on some respectable clothes, and meet me downstairs in oh sixteen hundred. Understood?”
“Ok!”
“I can’t hear you private!”
“Yes sir!” Katie yelled out at the top of her lungs with a goofy, deep voice and ran out the door, racing down the hall to wake up her two older sisters. Jack sat up in his bed and could not help but smile. He sighed a deep sigh and shook his head, preparing to get out of bed for the day, as he quietly said to himself, “Ok.”
When the man arrived back at his cabin, a dog came bursting out the front door, running to greet him.
“Hey, Charlie.”
In the dirt driveway next to the small cabin sat an old, rusty pick up truck with a British Columbia license plate. The cabin itself was small and worn down, as if it had come with the truck.
The man entered the cabin with the dog closely behind, wagging his tail and panting heavily. After he put some water on the stove, the man grabbed some beef jerky from the one cabinet in the small kitchen and gave some to the dog.
“Here you go, boy.”
The man sat down at the only table he had in the cabin and grabbed the book that had been lying in the middle. Although there was not much in the cabin, no pictures, no souvenirs, no decorations, there was no shortage of books.
After the sun began to set and disappear down behind the mountain, the man made himself the usual dinner, a bowl of rice and a couple of beef jerky strips. When the man had finished his dinner, he rinsed the bowl out in the rusty kitchen sink, and then sat back down to continue reading.
“Looks like we got Whitman tonight, Charlie.”
Sometimes the man would read aloud at night, other times he read to himself, and some nights he wouldn’t read at all.
After hours of reading, the man would rest his book back down onto the table, rub his tired eyes then sigh a deep and heavy sigh. By this time the dog would always be sleeping on the floor just before the bed in the other room, and the man would soon join the dog for another night’s sleep. The man would always climb into bed wearing his long underwear, no matter what time of year, and would turn off the lamp situated on the night table. And with that he would close his eyes.
The eggs on the frying pan sizzled frantically as did the greasy bacon in the adjacent pan. Jack tossed around the scrambling eggs while drinking a cup of coffee. Ivy was sitting on the family room couch, now dressed in her usual exercise clothes reading the paper.
“What are you gonna do with the girls today?”
“I don’t know, maybe take them to the tracks.”
“Well make sure they win some money this time, make them useful.”
Jack turned off the stove and smiled. He emptied the eggs onto four plates and brought them to the kitchen table. He then yelled up the stairs.
“Girls breakfast is ready, get your butts down here!”
“There’s too much yelling in this house, don’t you think? We need to get an intercom system or something.”
Jack wiped off his hands with the kitchen towel and walked over to where Ivy was sitting.
“Ya, and that way we can have the morning announcements and pledge of allegiance every morning.”
“Well if they’re gonna pledge their allegiance, it better be to me and not you.”
“Hey Ivs,” Jack said as he walked up behind the couch and leaned over Ivy. Ivy looked up at him as he smiled back down. “Happy anniversary.”
“Haha you are soooo lucky Katie came in yelling this morning.”
“Oh come on, I remembered!”
Ivy smiled and Jack leaned in to kiss her.
“Ew they’re kissing!” Katie, along with her older sisters Jen and Christina had came down the stairs and they sat down around the table to eat their eggs. Jen and Christina were only three years apart, while Katie was much younger. Katie had dirty blond hair, much like her father, Jen had golden brown hair, and Christina, the oldest, had black hair like her mother.
“What time are you going to the gym, mom?” Jen asked as she stuffed her face with eggs and orange juice.
“Oh, shoot! I gotta go guys, I’ll see you later today.”
“Don’t forget,” Jack caught Ivy before walking out the door, “I booked you that massage for an hour so just check in at the spa when you get there.”
“Aww aren’t you just the greatest bestest husband in the whole world.” Ivy gave Jack one last kiss goodbye, then left out the door.
“Hey, Dad, can you give me a ride to Tory’s in like, 20 minutes?” Christina got up from the table and brought her empty plate to the sink.
“Why are you going to Tory’s?” Jack asked.
“Cause she’s my friend.”
“Well, I thought we could maybe all spend the day together…”
“I know but, it’s just I told Tory I’d come over because she’s leaving for Europe—“
“Yeah, in two weeks.”
“I wanna go to Europe!” Katie yelled, enjoying the interaction between her dad and her sister.
“Plus, I need your help Chris, I kinda need all your guys’ help.”
“Well it’s not my fault you waited until the last minute to get mom a gift.”
“Come on, Chris, do it for me ok?”
Christina sighed, and then although she tried not to, formed a slight smile across her face.
“Ok, but I get shotgun.”
“No way! I get shotgun!” Jen ran to the garage door to grab her coat with Katie closely behind her.
“No, I get shotgun! I get shotgun!”
Jack followed the girls to the garage and grabbed his jacket along with the keys to the car.
“Beaker, you’re sitting in the seat kiddo.”
The girls climbed into the car as Christina put Katie into her booster chair in the back seat. Jack shut off the lights in the house and closed the door behind him.
“We’re out of milk,” The man closed the refrigerator door and walked across the room towards the front entrance. The dog was lying down in front of the fireplace and he stared at the man as he moved about the cabin. There were three hooks built into the wall next to the front door. One hook was empty, on the other was a jacket, and on the third were a set of keys. The man put on the jacket and grabbed the keys as he opened the door. “I’m going to the store.”
He drove down a windy dirt path that looked fit for a hiker with thin stature. The trail led down the mountainside, weaving in between the towering sequoias. The trail continued through the trees and after about an hour or so of driving, it finally widened and emptied out into a paved road. The man followed that road which ran along side the rocky coast, with cliff faces on one side and the edge of a cliff on the other. The water off to the side of the car, below the staggering cliff face, was a deep, rich blue and reflected the green sea of evergreens surrounding the entire sound. The road finally straightened out, and after hours of nothing but the wilderness, signs of humanity emerged with the sight of a couple of small cabins, not unlike the man’s.
He then reached a small town, with brown, weathered buildings looking like they were a couple of months away from falling down from just the breath of a breeze. At the edge of the town, not a hundred yards through, was an old convenience store with a small sign that read Liquor, Beer, Food. The man pulled up into a spot in front of the store and climbed out of the truck. When he entered the store, bells chimed along with the door closing behind him. The clerk at the front desk just sat in his chair reading what looked like a local newspaper. He was an old man, a bigger man, with gray hair and a robust belly that made his green flannel bulge out.
The man walked up and down the aisles and headed to the back of the store where the refrigerated goods were. He grabbed what he needed, along with some beef jerky, and walked up to the clerk, putting the milk and jerky on top of the desk separating the man from the clerk.
The clerk picked his head up from his paper and looked at the man, then down at the products, then back at the man. He examined the man’s face for a few seconds, and then started to bag the milk.
“Now you look like a man who needs a drink,” the clerk said to the man.
“I’ve been down that road.”
“Ya? And where’d it take you?”
The man looked up from his wallet and paused for a second, staring at the old clerk.
“To a place I didn’t want to go.”
“Well maybe you got off at the wrong stop.”
The man paused again, this time without lifting his head.
“How much?”
“$3.75.”
The man rummaged through his wallet looking for cash as the clerk continued to study him from across the counter.
“You know, you sound like a man who hasn’t found his peace with God. Have you found your peace with God?”
The man did not say a word; he only tossed a five-dollar bill down onto the counter, grabbed his bagged groceries, and walked out the door.
“I like this one! It has a heart!” Katie had her face pressed against the glass casing holding all the jewelry of the store. Jack always went to the same jewelers, located in the mall next to Footlocker. He always claimed it was the best jewelry shop in all of Seattle.
“Dad, are you trying to go flashy or keep it simple or what?” Asked Christina.
“I don’t really know. I’ll let you know when I see it.”
“I thought the ski trip is her present.”
“It is, Jen. That’s for all of us. I want something just for her.”
“What about me? What am I? Chop liver!”
Christina laughed and walked over to Katie, who had a frown on her face and her hands on her hips.
“Haha Katie, shut it, you just got the puppy, remember?”
“Oh, how about this one.” Jack pointed at a simple necklace with a small flower at the end with a turquoise gem in the middle.
“I like it! It looks like Princess Jasmine’s!” Katie remarked.
“Which one is Jasmine?”
“Aladdin, Dad,” Jen answered, “I think its pretty, Mom likes flowers.”
“Plus Mom looks like Princess Jasmine!” Katie chimed in.
Christina smiled.
“You think so? I think she’s more of a Belle.”
“Which one is Belle?”
“Beauty and the Beast, Dad!” Katie yelled in anger.
“Haha ok, ok, sorry Beaker.”
“I wanna be Ariel,” Katie said with her chest stuck out and her head held high.
“Well, what does that make me? The Beast?”
“Let me think who you are…” Christina said while thinking to herself, “I know! Simba!”
“Simba! Simba!” Screamed Katie.
“The lion? You think I’m a lion? Well I think I’m going to get this one, turquoise is your mother’s favorite color. Jack turned around from looking at the glass case and faced the three girls. They were standing in a line, from youngest to oldest, staring at their dad with loving eyes, wearing great, big smiles across their faces.
“It’s great Dad, she’s gonna love it.”
Winter had come, and with it came snow. The truck in the driveway had nearly vanished, buried under the depths of the pristine, white snow. A little trail of smoke carried out of the chimney that stuck out from the snow top roof of the cabin. The snow surrounding the cabin and the neighboring trees glistened from the sunlight shining down from the blue skies above. There was no wind, but the biting cold air nipped at the man’s nose and cheeks, occasionally even causing his eyes to water.
After he ate a light breakfast of eggs and toast, the man grabbed his flannel jacket and skullcap to stay warm. During the winters, the man usually kept his axe indoors, mostly by the fireplace. He grabbed his axe along with the strap, and walked out of the cabin and into the wintry air.
Ice and frost began to build and form on his thick beard as the winds blew harder and the skies quickly grew gray. The man had been hiking through the forest for some time now, and his legs were becoming tired and week. With each step he took, the man was forced to lift his boot high up out of the deep powder to make his next step. Sometimes the man would get lucky, and the snow would be packed down hard so he could walk across the crisp layer of ice without falling through. On this day, however, the snow was light and dry, and the once beautiful snowflakes drifting down from the blue skies above quickly became bigger and whirled in the icy wind.
The man did not stop though. He simply made his way through the white forest, fighting against the wind of the winter, just as he did the day before, and the day before that. When he finally reached the clearing that led to the snowy field, the man felt both relieved yet determined.
With nothing but the towering tree covered in snow standing before him, the man made his way through the sea of white, belittled by the overwhelming size of the field and the tree in the middle.
The man finally reached the giant, and although he was physically and mentally exhausted, with aching knees and frostbit cheeks, the man reached behind and took out his axe.
On days as cold as that day was, the trunk of the tree became especially hard and impossible to axe. But the man swung, then swung again, and then swung again, then swung again—just like the day before, and the day before that.
After his fourth and final swing, the man dropped the axe, which immediately disappeared in the deep snow, then fell down to his knees. And he knelt there, in front of that tree, with the icy wind blowing in his face and the blank gray skies above.
The man did not read that night. The dog had found a nice warm spot to sleep in front of the burning fireplace. The man did not sleep like the dog however. He sat in his chair at the table and stared off at the nothingness before him. His face was hardened and weathered, and his eyes looked tired. The man sat at the table that night as though he had just given up. Sometimes an occasional tear appeared in his blue, piercing eyes, and sometimes it didn’t. But the man sat there at the table, just staring, as the fire burned and burned and eventually flickered out.
That night, Jack prepared a romantic candle light dinner for himself and Ivy. He spent all day cooking, with the help of Jen and Katie, and had picked out his nicest suit.
“This is great, Hun,” Ivy said sitting across from him, wearing an elegant, black dress, with her black hair up in a bun, “Where are the girls?”
“Would you care for some wine, Madaam?” Christina came into the darkened dinning room and offered her mom a bottle of red wine as Jack sat back in his seat and smiled.
“Oh, why thank you very much!” Christina poured her glass half full and then went over to pour some into Jack’s glass.
“Dinner is served,” Jen came out of the kitchen and into the room with two plates of fish and rice.
“Wow, this is a nice treat! Where is Beaker?”
“I put her to sleep,” Jack replied quickly.
“Well I hope you did it quietly, I don’t want to wake the neighbors,” Ivy said smiling.
Jack smiled and replied back, “Well I didn’t use a gun, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Enjoy your dinner guys, we love you,” Christina and Jen, after lighting the candles on the table, made their way to leave the room.
“Aww I love you two girls so much,” Ivy said, “you’re the best daughters a mom could ask for.”
“Goodnight girls, thanks for everything today,” with Jack reaching out, both Christina and Jen leaned in to kiss their dad goodnight.
As the girls left the dining room, Jack placed a black box onto the table and slid it over to Ivy.
“This is for you.”
“What is it?”
“Open it.”
Ivy removed the top of the box and gasped as she removed a silver necklace and placed it around her neck.
“Sweetheart, I love it!”
“You’re the flower of my life, Ivs.”
“Haha, awwww, I love when you try to be all romantic and poetic. I love it. I love you.
“I love you too.”
All of a sudden, as the two stared at one another from across the table, music blasted through the speakers in the house:
“I can see what’s happening.”
“What?!”
“And they don’t have a clue!”
Jack and Ivy could hear giggles coming from the other room. Ivy smiled and yelled out, “I love this song!”
“Caaaan you feel, the looove, toniiight?
The peace the eeevenniing briiiings.”
Katie came bursting through the dining room doors erupting with laughter as Jen and Christina followed laughing as well.
“Beaker, you little goof. Come on, get your jammies and let’s go to bed, we have a big day tomorrow and a lot of packing to do in the morning.”
Jack left the table and picked up Katie to carry her to her room. When they got to her room he changed Katie into her pajamas and tucked her under the covers.
“Daddy, read me something?”
“What do you want to hear, babe?”
“The one with the daffodils!”
“Again? You like Wordsworth, huh? Ok, hold on.” Jack reached and grabbed a big book off of Katie’s nightstand and opened to a page in the middle. He started to read a poem as Katie lay in her bed and listened.
“I wandered as a lonely cloud…that floats on high o’er vales and hills…when all at once I saw a crowd, a host of golden daffodils…”
By the time Jack had reached the final stanza, Katie was fast asleep. However, Jack continued to finish the poem anyways and read the last and final six lines. As he got up to turn off her light and leave her room, Katie stopped him.
“Hey, Daddy?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“Are you in love with mommy?”
Jack smiled and paused for a few seconds, “Yes, sweetie, I am, very much so.”
“Is she your Disney princess?”
Jack quietly laughed to himself.
“Yeah, sweetie, she is.”
The next morning was hectic and full of excited chaos. Ivy was in her bedroom packing a large suitcase with jackets, hats, and gloves, while Jack was in the closet getting ready for the day. Situated on her own luggage, Ivy let out a yell as if the whole neighborhood needed to hear.
“Katie and Jen, don’t forget to pack long underwear, its gonna be cold!” She then turned to Jack, “Hun, hurry up you’re gonna be late for school.”
Jack struggled to pull his pants on, but when he finally did he grabbed his shoes and knapsack and headed down the stairs to the kitchen.
“Daddy where are you going?” Katie stopped Jack halfway on the stairs as she walked out of her room holding a young puppy.
“I’m gonna meet you guys there, sweetie, I have to stay late to grade papers.”
“Can I bring the doggy on the trip?”
“No, the dog has to stay here, he’ll be here when we get back.”
“But he’s my Christmas present—“
“No buts, kiddo, he’ll be fine, Mrs. Collins is coming over to take care of him.”
“But I want him to come!” Katie began to scream and cry while Jack became angry as well.
“Goddammit,” he said to himself, “Ivy, can you take care of this, I have to make it to first period! I’ll see you at the resort.”
As Jack ran down the stairs and out the garage door, Katie remained at the top of the stairs, sobbing uncontrollably. Ivy ran out of the bedroom to grab her.
“Ssshh, it’s ok, honey, it’s ok.”
It had been three years since the man had arrived at his cabin in the mountain. The weather was calm as a light breeze filled the forest air. After convincing the dog to stay put, the man grabbed his axe that was leaning against the side of the cabin, and began to make his way through the forest, just as he did the day before, and the day before that.
The trees around him seemed so familiar, yet so strange. As he looked up above, he could see the light blue sky with the passing clouds; the same clouds that had passed over those many days before.
The last bell of the day rang over two hours ago, and Jack was just about finished grading his last paper. When he finished, he stacked the papers together and placed them in a manila folder on his desk. He then ran out the classroom door.
His all black Volvo sedan was the only car left parked in the faculty lot.
He climbed into the car and started the engine, and just like that he was on his way.
The resort was about five hours away from where Jack and Ivy lived in Seattle, and after making a quick stop at home, Jack had been on the road for almost three. He had his favorite CD in and was playing it over and over again, occasionally singing to the words himself.
“You like this song, don’t ya?”
In the passenger seat, next to Jack, sat a young, puppy golden retriever, mesmerized by the passing scenery outside of his window.
He made his way through the forest, wearing his red plaid flannel and nothing but the axe on his back. The setting sun blinded the man as it shined through the myriad of trees before him, illuminating the man and guiding his way. Forced to shade his eyes with his hand, the man did not stop walking, but carefully stepped over logs and brush that littered his path.
The entire forest glowed and the small birds sang songs of sorrow and bliss, hidden amongst trees, invisible to the naked eye yet not the heart. The golden air smelt fresh, as nature had intended, and the man breathed heavily but steady. He knew this day was special. He had waited for a long time for this day to come.
As Jack made his way through the narrow mountain pass, driving faster than usual, the cliffs beside him became larger and larger, as did the amount of snow along the side of the road. More trees began to appear and Jack could tell he was now entering the wild. The sun had begun to set just beyond the distant snow capped mountains that were flooding with endless amounts of evergreen trees. The mountains surrounded a body of water that was a blue-green color, and shimmered, much like the snow, in the low burning sun.
After ten or fifteen minutes in the pass, Jack had to come to a slow stop as the car in front of him was not moving, just like the line of cars further up ahead. The sun continued to set and the sky was now burning red and orange, as did the reflecting snow.
“Goddammit, now what?”
After hours of hiking, the man once again arrived at the clearing, where the field stretched out along the edge of the forest and the tree stood tall in the center. The man paused for a minute, staring at the tree in awe.
Jack leaned forward towards the windshield in order to see further along the road, but the road he was on was much too windy and he only could see a couple cars ahead.
After endless waiting and no movement from any car, Jack turned off the radio and sat back in his seat with a deep and anxious sigh. The man in front of Jack got out of his car and stood behind the door, craning his neck to get a better view. Jack decided to get out of his car as well, and he walked up alongside the car ahead of him.
“What’s the hold up?” Jack asked, not looking at the man but still trying to make out the road ahead.
“No idea,” the man answered, “must be construction or some kind of accident.”
The man made his way to the lonely tree and the sun continued to set as he reached behind him and grabbed his axe. Holding the axe in his hands, he looked at it like he had never looked at it before. He felt the handle in his hands and touched the tip of the sharpened blade. Then he swung.
Jack became unusually panicked and anxiety filled his body. Leaving his car door open with the panic lights on, Jack made his way up the road, along the setting sun, passing the long line of parked cars and annoyed drivers. As he passed them, people started to get out of their cars as well in order to find out the reason for the delay.
Jack’s heart began to pound faster as the long line of cars continued to stretch along the narrow mountain pass, longer than he’d ever expected.
“What’s going on? What happened?” he asked the people outside of their cars, but no one could give him an answer.
The sun continued to set as the man picked up the axe for his second swing. The mark in the tree was deeper than ever. The tree was coming down that day, and the man knew it in his heart. The man swung at the tree for the second time, striking it with an enormous blow. He then picked up the axe for the third.
The sun was almost down and there was only a sliver of sunlight left illuminating the pass and the mountain. Jack continued walking up the road, but came to a sudden halt, as his heart stopped as well.
Up ahead he could make out the lights from sirens, both fire trucks and police cars, as cones and tape blockaded the pass.
Helicopters appeared in the sky as the sun was now almost completely set, still barely giving light.
Jack started to jog slowly, but then sped up as he heard more people worrying and even some cries. He ran up to the police blockade holding many spectators back.
After the third and fourth swings, the tree was still standing. The man stepped back for a second to view the entire tree. It stood tall like it had all these years, yet now there was a sense of weakness, a sense of vulnerability. It was almost dark, and the man wiped his mouth and beard with the sleeve of his arm. He then picked up his axe, and for the first time ever, he swung for a fifth time.
It was hard to see, but Jack was horrified at what he could make out. There, beyond the fire trucks and roadblocks, was what seemed to be a car, completely caved in with large boulders and rubble.
He hacked and he hacked and he swung his axe furiously, striking the tree with such force. The man grunted as sweat flew off his head and what seemed to be tears fell down his face.
“What is that?” Jack asked, still staring in horror.
“Sir, please step back, there’s been an accident, we’ve had some rocks fall.”
He furiously hacked away at the tree with blazing passion in his eyes. All of a sudden, the man heard a loud, thunderous crack. It was time. The tree continued to crack with the sound of bark breaking and snapping. Before the man could move, still panting and breathing heavily with his hands on his knees, the tree began to fall.
Jack, still staring at the scene, was unable to speak. Whether it was because of the fear that seized his heart and lungs or whether it was because he did not want to know the answer, Jack could barely get the words out of his trembling mouth, but when he did, he spoke steady and calm.
“What kind of car is it?”
The leaves of the branches made a swooshing sound as the tree fell through the air. The man ran and jumped out of the way, and as he sat on the ground, the tree, almost in slow motion, fell to the earth. The man cried and sighed in disbelief. He began to cry harder and at the same time, a smile of accomplishment spread across his face. The tree had fallen.
The man returned to the cabin as the starry night sky above stretched over the entire forest, which he knew all so well. Before he entered through the front door, the man took the axe and held it in his hands for one last time, then tossed it onto the dirt ground. As the man walked into the cabin, the dog instantly sprung to his feet and greeted his old friend.
“Hey Charlie, how you doin bud,” Jack spoke with a friendly but tired voice. He then crouched down to face the dog eye to eye.
“Look boy, I’m gonna be going away for a while. I’m not going to be here to take care of you. You’re gonna have to go out on your own now, out there,” the man looked up at the door, then walked over and opened it. With the brisk night air rushing into the room of the cabin, the dog cowered and whimpered back. The man realized he couldn’t ask the dog to go out alone into the autumn night, so he grabbed his book off the kitchen table and walked away into his bedroom.
He looked at himself in the mirror long and hard, and then reached down to grab a pair of scissors. He proceeded to cut and clip his beard, which he then shaved off with a metal blade.
He then walked over and sat down on his bed. The man reached under and pulled out an old, dusty box, a box not seen or touched in a long time. Before the man opened it, he stared at the box with fixing eyes. He then lifted off the lid and found two items.
The first was a photograph. He picked up the photograph, which instantly brought the man to tears. Tears not seen or felt in a long time. He held the picture tight in his hands as it began to shake in his grip. He rubbed the picture with his thumb as tears dropped down onto the glossy page. In the picture were four women. The first was older, with black hair and brown eyes. The second was younger with black hair as well, the third was an even younger girl, with golden brown hair. And the fourth and final girl, the girl whose face was rubbed by the man as he held it tight in his right hand, was a little girl with blond ponytails, radiantly smiling back at the sorrowful man.
He put down the photo and reached for the book that he had tossed onto his bed. He opened up to a poem that was somewhere in the middle, and read it to himself. The poem made him both cry and smile, and he then tore out the last and final stanza. He read the stanza one more time, then sighed a sigh of relief and smiled a satisfied smile, not for what he was doing or where he was, but for where he was soon to be. He brought the stanza over and taped it to his mirror.
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
He then went back to the bed, reached for the box, grabbed the second item, and closed his eyes.
God gave him life, but it wasn’t God’s to take.
